


You're Going to Get Yourself Killed

by m4jor3tt3



Category: Book of Life (2014)
Genre: M/M, Multi, NSFW, Oneshot, Sensation Play, handjobs, im so sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-09
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-24 18:59:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2592689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m4jor3tt3/pseuds/m4jor3tt3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joaquin has a problem with getting into fights and coming home bloodied and beaten. Manolo gives him a piece of his mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Going to Get Yourself Killed

"What trouble did you get yourself into this time?"

It isn't the first time Joaquin has attempted to sneak into the apartment in the middle of the night without anyone noticing. He's out for hours, and comes home with bumps and cuts and bruises littered across his skin, and someone always ends up trying to clean him up because God knows he can't do it himself. 

This time isn't any different. Maria is already asleep (she did the dishes, giving her bedroom privileges for the evening, meaning Joaquin and Manolo had to sleep on the couch), which leaves Manolo sitting awake in the living room, softly strumming his guitar to cure boredom as he waits patiently for Joaquin. He's attempting to tiptoe into the apartment, not wanting to be scolded for the umpteenth time, however as soon as the door creaks, Manolo is on his feet. 

"What trouble did you get yourself into this time?" He asks with a sigh, making his way around the couch to meet the taller man halfway. Joaquin is quiet, obviously embarrassed- usually it's Maria who catches him- and blushes softly, thankful for the cover of darkness the apartment is under, save for a few dim lightbulbs and some candles. Manolo sighs again and grabs his boyfriend's wrist, tugging him into the light to get a better look at him. 

Joaquin is in bad shape, but nothing worse than usual. The flesh around his eye is a dark purplish sort of color, but the swelling is minor. His bottom lip is split, but the bleeding had since stopped since he received the injury. There's a small scrape on his cheek, probably either from falling to the pavement or being checked into a brick wall. There are probably numerous other bruises beneath his clothes. Manolo sighs and shakes his head, a hand going up to gently touch Joaquin's undamaged cheek with gentle, but calloused fingers. "Getting into all these fights can't be good for you," he sighs, letting out a soft chuckle as a smile slightly tugged at his lips. He blushes softly as Joaquin lifts a hand, resting it gently on top of Manolo's. However, Joaquin manages a smile, but winces slightly. "It really isn't a big deal." He says finally.  
"You aren't invincible." Manolo counters, running his thumb carefully over his cheekbone. Joaquin tips his head into Manolo's hand and closes his eyes briefly, sighing. "I'm fine, Manny, don't worry." Manolo purses his lips and goes up to his toes, pressing a soft, dry kiss to Joaquin's eye. Joaquin hisses, but doesn't pull away. "C-careful," he says, "it still sort of stings." Manolo hums quietly and nods, carefully placing kisses along his cheek before lifting his other hand, pressing his lips to each scrape that was scattered over his knuckles. He waited a brief moment before going up on his toes again and hesitantly capturing Joaquin's slight smirk between his own lips. He tilts his head as he feels Joaquin's hand leave his own in order to wind his arm around his waist, pulling him in closer; Manolo rests his hands on Joaquin's broad chest, kissing his boyfriend slowly before pulling back reluctantly, gripping the fabric of Joaquin's t-shirt. "Are you okay?" He asks softly, letting out a slow breath as he looks up to catch Joaquin's eyes. Joaquin nods, tightening his arm around the smaller man's waist. "Yeah, I'm fine, I already told you-"  
"No, are you /okay/?" Manolo repeats, fingers curling tighter in the soft fabric stretched across Joaquin's chest. Joaquin swallows softly, mouth slightly open before nodding shortly and loosening his arm around his waist. Manolo swallowed hard and took a slight step back to carefully tug up Joaquin's shirt; Joaquin put his arms up to help him discard the clothing. Manolo draped the shirt over the back of the couch then returns his attention to Joaquin's now bare chest, and he swallows hard. 

Dark bruises decorated the expanse of his skin, along with the scars from previous battles. Manolo bites his lip, running a finger carefully over a particularly nasty bruise on his side- it's darker than the rest and larger, as well as swollen and yellow around the edges. "What happened here?" He asks softly, eyes remaining fixed on the bruise. Joaquin chuckles awkwardly, and Manolo feels him shrug. "Like you said," he says "I'm not invincible." Manolo looks back up at Joaquin and arches an eyebrow, clearly unamused. Joaquin's smile disappears and he clears his throat. "Someone kicked me. It's fine, nothing is broken. I don't think so, anyway." Manolo hums again, leaning back in to press a dry kiss to Joaquin's Adam's apple, resting his hand flat on the large bruise. "This coloring really suits you," he mumbles, circling his thumb over the darkened skin as he backs Joaquin up into the armrest of the couch. Joaquin swallows again, unsure of where to place his hands. "W-what-" He quickly clears his throat in an attempt to steady his voice. "What do you mean?" Manolo looks back up at him, then- to Joaquin's surprise- he digs his fingers into the swollen skin. Joaquin makes a small noise, attempting to jump back despite the fact he was cornered. "M-Manolo, what-"  
"Maybe if you stopped getting into fights, that wouldn't hurt so bad, tonto," Manolo responds, pressing his fingers down harder. A gasp collects in Joaquon's throat, and only a high pitched whimper managed to escape. He sighs with relief as he feels the pressure Manolo's fingers disappear; Manolo's reaching back to quickly yank out the band holding his long hair back and quickly wraps it around his wrist before grabbing Joaquin's waist and leaning up to capture his lips messily. Joaquin gasps softly against his mouth, lifts a hand to run his fingers through Manolo's now loose hair as he kisses him back. He begins to twirl his fingers through the dark curls, but Manolo quickly pulls back, leaving Joaquin blushing and grasping at air. "What do you think you're doing?" Manolo asks, tilting his head.  
"I... I thought we..." Joaquin stammers, blinking rapidly.  
"No, no, you're in trouble, mi amor," Manolo corrects, placing a hand flat on Joaquin's chest and pushing him back onto the couch, his legs propped up and dangling over the arm rest. Manolo hovers over him, hair hanging loosely in his face as he raises an eyebrow at the man beneath him. "Maria and I have scolded you time after time about getting into these silly bar fights, haven't we?"  
"Y-yes," Joaquin says, about to prop himself up on his elbows, only to be pushed down into the cushions again. "Hands above your head," Manolo says flatly, expression straight. Joaquin swallows again and obeys, shifting to push his hands up over his head, resting one wrist on top of the other. Manolo carefully runs the back of one hand over Joaquin's cheek, tilting his head fondly. "If you keep acting so recklessly," he sighs softly, fingers trailing down his jaw before stopping at his neck. "You're going to get yourself /killed./" With that single word, Manolo's voice deepens and Joaquin shivers and swallows hard. "Maybe you should teach me a lesson," Joaquin tries, a slight smirk coming to his face.  
"Callate la puta boca," Manolo hisses, shifting to straddle Joaquin's waist and fuss with the front of his jeans. Joaquin let out a shaky sigh, his head falling back onto the cushions. "Apuesto a que quieres me que te chupan fuera," Manolo mutters, quickly tugging his boyfriend's jeans down. Joaquin is about to respond, but his throat nearly immediately goes dry as he feels the heel of Manolo's hand dig into the growing bulge in his briefs. He gasps hoarsely, gripping pointlessly at air as he nods quickly. "Si, si, mi amor," he breathes, lifting one hand to push through his own hair. Manolo chuckles, tucking a finger beneath the elastic of his waistband. Joaquin bites his lip, then his eyes fly open as he feels the waistband tug up then snap back down. "Bueno, no te voy a dar la satisfacción," Manolo responds, leaning down to slowly kiss him as his hand snakes beneath his waistband. Joaquin moaned softly into Manolo's mouth, wincing softly at the pressure on the cut on his lip, but went to grip at Manolo's curls again. At the feeling of Joaquin's fingers in his hair, Manolo uses his free hand to smack the bruise on his side, causing the other man to whimper against his mouth. "Mantenga las manos quietas," he mutters, wrapping his fingers around the other man's cock, swiping his thumb over the tip as he bites down on his lower lip. Joaquin gasped, hips stuttering slightly. "No deje de," he breathes, leaning up to attempt and get the upper hand, but Manolo was faster, twisting his wrist skillfully to elicit a sharp gasp from the taller man. "Dios, te me mear fuera a veces," Manolo mutters, dragging his lips and teeth up Joaquin's jaw. Joaquin shivers and swallows, tipping his head back and closing his eyes. "Te metes en estas peleas y llegas a casa todo golpeado," Manolo continues, attaching his mouth to a spot on Joaquin's neck; he sucks a dark mark up into his skin, biting down on the spot briefly before running his tongue gently over the new bruise. "Cuando yo soy el que debe ser que le da moretones." Joaquin's eyes roll back with a long sigh at his boyfriend's words (coupled with his touch), breathing heavily as his toes curl into the couch. "Por favor, me acaba de joder, Manolo," Joaquin breathes shakily, eyes opening halfway. "Yo no voy a durar mucho más tiempo."  
"Oh, lo sé, lo sé," Manolo hums, his hand gradually slowing down as he pulled back away from his neck, hair tousled and face flushed. "Es por eso ... Voy a parar y usted puede terminar fuera de ti mismo."  
"Wait, what?" Joaquin asks, brow furrowing. Manolo smirks, pulling his hand from beneath his waistband and sitting up. "You heard me," he says, shrugging and sliding off of his lap. "I'm sure I can squeeze in next to Maria."  
"Manolo, you can't do that!" Joaquin protests hoarsely, going to sit up and adjusting his briefs awkwardly. Manolo stretches his arms above his head, picking up a candle on the coffee table and blowing it out quickly. "Manolo!"  
"No more fighting and maybe you'll get what you want," Manolo calls over his shoulder, tugging his own shirt off as he carefully pushes open the bedroom door. "Now be quiet- you know how she hates being woken up." He throws a wink to Joaquin before stepping into the bedroom and shutting the door silently. Joaquin stares at the door in disbelief, then looks down at his briefs, then sighing and dropping his head back. "I hate you!" He calls out. He looks up when he hears the door open again, seeing Manolo's head poke out. "No, you don't."  
Then the door shuts again.


End file.
